


Blackout

by solluna



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Just a little bit of Angst, M/M, but also lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 07:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3720661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solluna/pseuds/solluna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I can't face the dark without you</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackout

**Author's Note:**

> So the interesting about this one shot is that I actually had the idea for it long before the most recent chapter came out, and it amused me how similar they are (although mine is the opposite situation, more or less). Aah, I'm really looking forward to where sensei takes the story next! 
> 
> On another note, I apologize for not updating my other stuff for a while. I'm really busy right now, so I don't have a lot of time to write. Thats why I thought I'd put up a one shot, 'cause there's no updating commitments ;)
> 
> Anyway. Hope you enjoy! :D

The night air was warm and heavy as Asami stepped out the unmarked back door of Scion, and overhead thunder rolled and rumbled across the sky. It wasn’t raining yet, but it was coming; Asami could taste it in the air like tears.

A faint breeze teased his hair as he made his way through the unlit, dingy alley towards his waiting car, Kirishima and Suoh flanking him on either side. Recent threats against him had necessitated extra precaution, and so instead of leaving the club from the front, Suoh had finally persuaded him to slip out the back and through the long, dark (and heavily monitored) back alley. At this point in his career, Asami was well used to this type of situation, though he found the whole thing to be rather trying on his patience. But after an _extremely_ long day of meetings and reports, Asami went along with his subordinates’ urging, if only to make things more expedient. All Asami wanted right now was to make it back to his home and his lover, preferably before the looming storm broke.

Thoughts of Akihito, lying warm and inviting in their bed, ensnared Asami’s mind and he smiled to himself, anticipating the surely sullen welcome he would receive. He _was_ very late, after all. Akihito hated to be left waiting, and the night was stretching on, leaving no traces of light behind except for the occasional flashes of lightning that lit up the clouds and cast shadows on the world below.

“ _Asami_ …”

The voice, little more than a whisper caught by the wind, made Asami pause and turn, swiveling his dark head back and forth to peer cautiously into the deep blackness of the alley. It seemed empty though, except for the dim shapes of dumpsters behind them and the faint light from the car’s headlights up ahead.

“Asami-sama? Is there a problem?” Kirishima inquired, and pushed his glasses farther up his nose, casting a wary glance over at Suoh, who had tensed when Asami had stopped, and put a hand to the gun holster at his side.

“No,” Asami frowned, shaking his head slowly, “it’s nothing. I just thought that I heard—” A sudden flash of lightning lit up the space in front of them like a strobe light, briefly illuminating a figure before darkness engulfed it again. “Akihito!” The following crash of thunder drowned out Asami’s voice as he surged forward towards the form of his young lover.

For it was surely Akihito that he had seen, inexplicably standing ahead of them in the alley, in the middle of the night, in a storm. Asami had explicitly warned Akihito of the currently dangerous situation, and firmly ordered the boy to stay home… but Akihito was never one for obeying orders, especially not Asami’s. So it was with frustration but not surprise that he swiftly made his way over to the boy, chastising him as he got close: “What are you doing here, Akihito? Foolish brat, I told you to wait in the apartment.”

He reached Akihito and tugged the boy close to him, feeling him stumble and reach up to Asami to steady himself. A warm, heavy breeze ruffled Akihito’s hair as he tipped his head up towards Asami. In the gloom of the alley, Asami could hardly even make out his features.

“…Asami?”

Akihito’s voice was soft and high and young, like a child calling out to his mother for comfort. It seemed to creep down Asami’s spine like a chill, settling somewhere deep in his gut. Asami could vaguely remember a time, long ago, when his own voice had sounded that way: when he had been young, and scared of learning what it meant to die.

“Akihito?” He pressed the boy close to him, then closer still, and reached up to run his fingers through soft messy hair. “What’s wrong?”

As if in answer Akihito coughed, just as another strike of lightning lit up the dark, and there was no mistaking the blood that spurted from his mouth. He stumbled back, still coughing, clenching one hand into Asami’s arm to keep from falling over. Now Asami could see the deep red stain that spread over Akihito’s shirt, seeping warm crimson wetness over the once-pristine white.

Asami shouted for his men to get help, panic rising as his world slammed down around him. He could feel his heart pounding, in his chest, in his ears, in perfect rhythm with Akihito’s as it pumped his lifeblood from his body. Akihito’s knees gave out, and Asami barely managed to catch him as they both crashed down to the ground.

“I’ve got you, Akihito. I’ve got you,” Asami breathed into the boy as though it might give him breath, repeating the words like a litany, a prayer. “You’re going to be okay, I’ve got you, you’ll be fine, I promise.”

Asami pressed his hands into Akihito’s chest, trying to find the source of the blood, trying to stop it, stem the flow, do anything to prolong the life that was quickly slipping through his fingers. Akihito still grasped Asami’s sleeve tightly with one hand, but his grip was beginning to weaken as his breathing shuddered and slowed.

“Akihito… _don’t_ ,” Asami pleaded, ordered. He wanted to say more, to finally tell the boy just what he _meant_ , what he was worth, how much Asami… but the words wouldn’t come, got caught in his throat, thick and suffocating as always. He couldn’t face the truth.

“Asami…” Akihito smiled sadly, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth as he reached with his other hand to cradle Asami’s face. The boy had always been far braver than he, far more honest with his words, his body, his actions and deeds. Asami had always seen the truth of him in his eyes. But now those eyes were dimming, their vibrancy quickly fading as a glazed emptiness took over.

Asami knew the second the life left Akihito’s body. He watched the light fade, heard the breath stop, and felt the shattering of his soul and the void that opened up to replace what he’d lost. Softly, more gently than he had ever really treated Akihito in life, Asami bent down to press a kiss to the boy’s forehead, then to his lips, still metallic with the taste of blood.

Lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and Asami tipped his head back just as the heavens opened up, and the rain finally began to fall.

But it wasn't water that fell from the sky.

It was blood.

*

Asami slammed back into consciousness as a crash of thunder rolled through his dark apartment, close enough that he could feel the building shake slightly. The curtains in his room had been left open, and the window cracked; it had been a hot day, filled with tension as the humidity rose in anticipation of a storm. But now the storm had broken and cold air flowed into the room, gliding across his sweat-slicked skin and making him shiver.

Asami frowned as he peered out through the dark glass of the windows. He wasn’t sure if it was the storm or the dream that woke him, but the memory of blood – _Akihito’s_ blood – was so fresh and real that he could still taste it on his lips.

_It was a dream_ , he told himself firmly, annoyed by the way his heart continued to pound as though trying to break free from his chest. _Only a dream, he’s fine_. To calm himself and cleanse the nightmare from his mind, he reached across the cool silk sheets, searching for Akihito’s warmth.

Less than a year ago, Asami would have laughed at the idea of sharing a bed with a lover, of curling another body against his own in order to sleep. It was unnecessary, ridiculous. Yet now he craved the heat of that body with an intensity that amazed him. And not just for pleasure either. The boy was a balm, more soothing for Asami’s frayed nerves than smoking… well, most of the time. Admittedly he could be the cause of a good deal of stress and chaos as well, but there was fun to be had in that too, which surprised Asami as well. Normally, he liked his life to be rigid, orderly. Now it was anything but.

Asami laughed to himself, quietly so as not to wake his sleeping lover. Truly, the changes that Akihito had wrought on his life in such a short amount time continued to unnerve him. It was something he would never admit aloud, though, and never to Akihito. In that respect at least, his dream had been very real: even now, he couldn’t bear to face the truth.

Still, he smiled as he reached to the far side of the bed, intending to pull Akihito into his arms and trap him there. Sometimes the kid would allow it, but most nights he would kick or squirm his way free to sleep at the edge of the bed with one leg thrown over the side. Tonight, though, Asami’s hand met the edge of the bed and found nothing. Akihito wasn’t there, and the sheets were cold.  

True, Akihito used to make a habit of sneaking away from him after their nightly… activities. But that was months ago, and despite how their relationship had started out, it was no longer normal for Akihito to slip away from his bed in the middle of the night. Frowning, Asami reached over to flip the switch on the bedside light. Nothing happened.

Well and truly awake now, Asami sat up, scanning the shadowed room more closely. For the first time he noticed how unnaturally dark it was. Though the curtains were open, no light came from the windows, not from the moon or stars that were covered by clouds, but not from the city lights either. Maybe it was lingering unease from nightmare, or maybe it was the storm, but Asami felt as though he had ice water for blood, pooling through his veins and making his heart cold.

Either way, he had learned long ago to trust his gut. He reached beneath his pillow for his gun.

Akihito hated that he kept it there, had complained about the dangers of it on numerous occasions. _What if it goes off and shoots you in the head while you sleep, Asami? What then?_ But to Asami, the gun was protection, prevention. It was preparedness. It was his reality, harsh but true.

And tonight, it might even be necessary.

Slipping from the sheets, he crept across the room, silent as a predator. The cold floor against his bare feet and the reassuring weight of the gun in his hand helped to sharpen his senses. His bedroom door was ajar and he pushed it the rest of the way open, soundlessly heading for the kitchen, which was the most likely place to find Akihito at any given time.

As he went, Asami told himself that he was overreacting, that Akihito had probably just gotten up for a late night snack, that the boy was fine. He’d almost convinced himself of it too, until he reached the kitchen, dark and empty of his lover. He flicked the light switch to be sure, but here too nothing happened. The lights stayed off.

Asami felt dread seep into his bones.

Fear for Asami was different than it was for most other people, however: it didn't shut him down, didn't paralyze him with panic. If anything, it made him more alert, made everything sharper.  It was as though he was looking at the world through the clear edges of jagged glass.

Asami allowed the sensation to take over, removing himself from his body as he moved on instinct, guided by experience and the knowledge that if he was right and they were in danger, then he needed to act very, very carefully. And he needed to find Akihito, _now_.

Quietly and methodically, Asami made his way through the rest of the apartment: the dining room, the living room, Akihito’s old bedroom, the converted darkroom, his own office. He entered each room gun first, scanned carefully, checked the lights. And each time he came up with nothing: no power, no signs of intruders, no Akihito.

The dark of the apartment was overwhelming. His eyes should have adjusted, but each time he came close the bright flash of far off lightning would burn across his retinas once more, blinding him all over again as it faded away. The quiet, too, was unnerving. In the stillness of the night, all Asami could hear was the sound of his breaths and the beating of his heart.

Then the sound of whirring broke the silence. Recognizing the sound of the glass door to the balcony gliding open, Asami whirled, bringing his gun up and taking aim.

“Holy shit! Asami! Don’t shoot!”

Akihito’s voice had never sounded so sweet. Flicking the safety catch back on, Asami lowered his gun, placing it carefully on a decorative table beside him. He moved slowly, feeling the tension release from his body and fighting his knees’ urge to give out in relief.

“Jesus, Asami, what the fuck?” Akihito was complaining, the irritation in his voice making up for the fact that Asami couldn’t see the glare on his face, “why do you even have that thing out right now?”

Asami didn't answer. Instead, he tried not to laugh at how breathless he found himself at this moment. The word _pathetic_ floated around in his mind, and he was almost inclined to agree with it. He had overreacted, behaved like a child who was afraid of the dark.

“Asami? What were you doing, anyway? What’s wrong?” Noticing his silence, Akihito took a hesitant step forward, reaching a hand out towards Asami in the shadowed hallway.

_I woke up and you weren't there_ , Asami almost said, wanted desperately to say.

_I had a nightmare where you died in my arms._

_I can’t face the dark without you_.

But the words wouldn't come. So instead he took a deep breath and released it slowly, stepping closer to ruffle Akihito’s hair with a playfulness he didn’t really feel.

“I couldn't sleep,” he told Akihito, “and the power’s off.”

“It’s a blackout!” Even in the darkness, Asami could picture the beaming expression that lit Akihito’s face along with that tone. “I think the storm must have hit a major power station, ‘cause the whole city’s dark!”

Akihito’s voice was filled with wonder and marvel and, not for the first time, Asami was struck by the difference between them. Here he had been close to panic, thinking the worst of the situation, and Akihito had been standing outside like a little kid, watching the storm. This time Asami did laugh, softly at first but growing louder, until it threatened to make his sides hurt. He laughed at Akihito, for his childish excitement. And he laughed at himself, for his childish fear.

Though the boy couldn’t possibly know the reason for his mirth, Akihito laughed right along with him, the pure sound making his heart swell. Then his bright boy took his hand and pulled him back to the balcony door, and into the cool summer night. “Come see!”  

Asami followed Akihito to the edge of the balcony, where the boy pointed out at the eerily dark city beyond. There were still the headlights of some cars, but in a city that was normally as bright and bustling as Tokyo, the lack of illumination coming from the buildings felt strange and unnatural. It was as though he and Akihito were looking out at the end of the world, and they were the only two people left in it.

“Isn’t it freaky?” Akihito laughed. “It’s the kind of thing I would love to take a picture of, but I could never do it justice with my camera. I guess there are some things we feel that we just can’t express, y’know?”

Asami did know, far better than Akihito realized. Like Akihito’s camera, there were things he felt that he couldn’t bear to express.

He knew that there were times the boy thought of him as aloof, cold and uncaring. But that wasn’t, and had never been the case. Asami just reacted to and expressed things differently, a product of the ruthless world he lived in. In Asami’s world, you kept your emotions hidden, lest they be used against you. He had slipped up with Fei Long, let the Chinese man see what was important to him. And the consequences had very nearly cost him everything. It was a mistake that Asami had no intention of repeating.

But it was killing him slowly, as surely as the cigarettes. It eroded away in his mind; all those things that he kept hidden swirled around and threatened to undo him, consume him. It was the cause of nightmares like the one he’d had tonight, where Akihito’s importance in Asami’s life was the very thing that killed him, and still Asami could not admit the simple truth.

What a wretched man he was.

Asami sighed and reached forward, wrapping his arms against Akihito and pulling the boy back against his chest. The t-shirt Akihito wore was cool and damp from standing out in the storm, but Asami could still feel the warmth of his skin from beneath the wet fabric. He slipped one hand under, placing it directly onto that heat, and slid it up until it rested above Akihito’s heart. Asami bent his head low until his lips were at Akihito’s throat, against his jugular, where he could feel the same strong pulse beating out the sound of Akihito’s life.

Akihito stayed quiet for a moment, leaning in to Asami’s touch. They both watched the silent city, the night’s storm fading away in the distance.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Akihito spoke softly, as though trying not to startle a wild animal. Asami should have known that the boy would pick up on his unease; Akihito was far more observant that most people gave him credit for. Asami smiled sardonically, blowing out a warm breath on the boy’s neck.

“Come on, I know something’s bothering you. You don’t just pull out your gun for nothing, Asami. What’s wrong?”

Asami released his hold on the boy, but still didn’t answer. He took a step back, fixing his eyes on the last traces of lightning in the far distance. But Akihito knew him well by now, and knew when he was avoiding him. So the boy took Asami’s face into his hands and rose up onto his toes so they met eye to eye.

“Tell me,” Akihito urged.

Asami hesitated, staring for a moment through the night into Akihito’s face just inches from his own. They were close enough that they were nearly sharing breaths, but in the heavy shadows Asami could barely make out Akihito’s features. It was reassuring somehow, knowing that Akihito was this close but having the cover of darkness to hide behind. It made him want to try honesty, for once.

“I had a bad dream…” Asami admitted finally. He paused for a heartbeat, and then added softly, “You died.”

The words lingered between them, heavy in their implication. Then, to Asami’s surprise, Akihito laughed softly, rocking up farther on his toes to close the rest of the distance between them and press their foreheads together gently.

“I have dreams like that sometimes,” he breathed, and Asami could feel the slightest tremor in his spine. Asami frowned as he wondered just what Akihito had dreamed, to make him shiver at the memory like that. “But I never really imagined that you would be worried by that kind of thing too,” Akihito continued, a sly smile creeping its way onto his face.

“And why wouldn’t that be something I would worry about?”

Akihito’s answering shrug was equal parts sheepish, hopeful, and pleased. Asami knew that Akihito wasn’t aware of the depth of his feelings, but for the boy to think that Asami wouldn’t worry or care if he died… the guilt Asami felt at that burned white hot inside of him.

“Akihito,” Asami began, his voice rough and low against the silent night, “how can you honestly believe that I don’t worry about you _constantly_? If anything were to happen to you, if I ever lost you, I—” Asami stopped abruptly, unable to finish that thought. He took a deep, steadying breath, his lips close enough to Akihito’s to draw the air right from his lungs. He didn’t even want to begin to consider his life without his bright boy – as dark as this night was, with no lights from the city or the stars, it would be nothing in comparison to the blackness of an existence without Akihito.

Asami released his breath, blowing it gently across Akihito’s face, before forcing his lips to curve into a smirk. “Besides, you’re not allowed to die,” he teased, though the words were more of a plea than a joke. Then he added the words, the ones that sounded like one thing but meant another… the ones that were as close as Asami Ryuichi ever came to telling his lover the truth: “Because you’re mine.”

Akihito huffed as he always did, misunderstanding Asami’s true meaning as usual. He pulled back so that he could better glare at Asami through the darkness.

“I am not _yours_ , Asami. I am _not_ a piece of property,” he complained. But before Asami could open his mouth to argue or explain, Akihito added, “But I am _with_ you… forever. You know that, right?”

Asami didn't know how to answer that, didn't even honestly know how he was feeling at this moment. He was amazed, elated, amused, overwhelmed… and perhaps just a little envious of his little lover. His mouth didn't know how to even begin to form the words that would express what Akihito offered so freely.

Misunderstanding Asami’s silence for doubt, Akihito continued earnestly, “I mean that, Asami. I’m not yours, but I’m also not going anywhere… you’re stuck with me.” Then he stuck out his tongue, and Asami snapped right out of his trance at the sight of the impish action. With a wicked chuckle, Asami bent down to lick Akihito’s tongue with his own. The brat jumped in surprise, sealing his mouth shut and glaring. Asami just laughed and gathered Akihito into his arms, sliding one hand down his back to rest along the curve of his ass.

“Oh, Akihito,” he purred, his lips grazing right against the boy’s ear, “I do hope you understand the consequences of what you've just said.” To emphasize his words, he walked Akihito backwards until his back was pressed against the balcony railing. Their bodies met inch for inch, chest to stomach to groin, and Akihito’s breath hitched as Asami rolled his hips forwards slowly. Asami laughed, his voice low and rough. He was intoxicated by Akihito’s words, by his pledge. Forever, he had said, and Asami was going to hold him to that.

Asami leant down to catch Akihito’s bottom lip between his, and the heady groan that passed the boy’s lips when Asami began to suck was music to his ears. Akihito’s hands came up to lock around behind Asami’s neck and twist into his hair, tugging slightly. That position was convenient for Asami to tug the boy’s still-damp t-shirt over his head and toss it aside on the balcony, before going back to press his lips to Akihito’s jaw. Asami’s hands slid across Akihito’s flushed skin, savouring the warmth and the shivers that followed his trailing fingers, while his mouth slid down to the boy’s throat. His tongue traced up along Akihito’s jugular, before he nipped his way back down, his teeth grazing the skin to mark it, so that in the morning it would be a reminder of their conversation tonight. Akihito threw his head back with a soft sound, his eyes half-open and fluttering. Then something caught his attention, and he tugged Asami’s face up and away from his throat.

“Asami, look! The stars!”

Reluctantly, Asami dragged his eyes away to follow Akihito’s gaze up towards the heavens. Sure enough, the heavy cloud cover had parted, allowing for a view of the night sky that was unheard of in a city as full of light pollution as Tokyo. The darkness caused by the city-wide blackout had left room for the starlight to shine through, and the sky was radiant with the light of a thousand stars that normally went unseen. Asami had to admit that the sight was indeed amazing, but he preferred the one directly in front of him: Akihito, his hair shining silver, leaning back with a rapt expression and starlight shimmering in his eyes. Asami smiled down at his bright lover, leaning over him to claim Akihito’s attention once more with a searing kiss that stole the breath from both of them. 

*

Later, Asami woke again to the early hours of morning and sunlight just beginning to creep its way in through the opened curtains. Akihito was curled up against him, warm and real and perfect as a daydream. Asami watched him breathe softly in his sleep, considering the events of the night: his nightmare, and the conversation that had followed. In the darkness, it had been surprisingly easy to be more honest with himself and with Akihito, and Asami felt as though a weight had been lifted from his chest. He still hadn’t been able to say the words out loud, but he wasn’t worried about it anymore. He would say them in his own time, and in the meantime, Akihito wasn’t going anywhere.

Asami smiled softly and pressed a feather-light kiss to Akihito’s forehead. He reached for his phone to text Kirishima that he was going to be in late this morning, and then settled back in against Akihito, noticing as he did that the bedside light was turned on.

The blackout was over at last.


End file.
